My Conversion Story

I volunteered to share my conversion story in Relief Society tomorrow... might as well make a blog out of it too!


I was raised Methodist, although I split with all forms of organized religion as a teenager over disgust at the deliberate ignorance and helplessness that my religious peers (particularly the female ones) were busily cultivating. My standard response to the Protestant claim of "You don't go to church? You're going to go to hell!" was "Good. At least I won't have to put up with YOU there."

My first exposure to the LDS church happened at a games convention in Seattle in August of 2003, from another attendee at the same event. It wasn't one of those standard missionary moments that we talk about... his faith just happened to come up in conversation, and instead of Nathaniel going out of his way to share details with me, I was the one that kept asking questions. At the end of the weekend convention, we each went home... me to Oregon, Nathaniel to Utah. We kept up the string of questions and answers over email for several months before he finally convinced me to start meeting with the missionaries, who then invited me to attend church.

Once I started attending the Corvallis singles' ward, I was surprised at how many of the people there I already knew. Virginia McMakin, a peer from the karate dojo I trained at, was there. Anjai Fisher, a friend from middle school, and her little brother Devan were there. The map showing where missionaries from the ward were currently serving listed Josh Kesicker, one of my friends from high school... so THAT's why he'd always had a habit of using "fudge" instead of swear words! My parents were very puzzled by my re-association with organized religion; the best explanation I could come up with in response to their queries was "I've never been harassed by a Mormon."

My first encounter with an LDS family was when I 'ran away' to Utah for a week to stay with Nathaniel's family in order to escape a flea infestation at my dad's house. I knew the stereotype of Mormon families being very patriarchal and attached to traditional gender roles, so was expecting the family to be like that. When I arrived, somebody had just unloaded a car-full of groceries and Nathaniel's dad was in the middle of putting them away; he paused his work and sat down to have a conversation with me, still holding a box of tampons. I thought 'Wow, these people are really progressive!'.

Despite the ready social connections, I wasn't an easy sell. The sister missionaries went through all the pre-set discussions with me, then did it again, then started making up additional discussions. One of my favorite hobbies was "stump the missionaries", coming up with questions about LDS doctrine that they didn't know the answers to. A few of them got irritated at my obstinance, but most loved the challenge and a few have stayed in contact with me since.

The rigid attachment to traditional gender roles that is so prevalent in church culture was a big obstacle to me. Many of my questions for the missionaries revolved around what degrees of variance are and are not acceptable. I remember having a fairly long discussion with Isaac Washburn, the host of our unofficial singles FHE gatherings, about church attitudes and policies towards intersex people... with the conclusion being that LDS people are content to dismiss the situation as so rare that it doesn't need to be considered; I was and still am very uncomfortable with that attitude, but kept attending.

The first time I got up to speak during a sacrament testimony meeting was in the summer of 2004, after a day of searching a remote stretch of the Mary's River with my dad and Virginia's mother for Brooke Wilberger's remains ended with a crew from base miraculously showing up with no help from two-way communication at exactly the right place and time to get us off the water before a thunderstorm hit. I was confident those LDS leaders of the search had been inspired to know where to find us, although it wasn't until December of 2005 after a confrontation with the missionaries that ended with them getting up and walking out on our scheduled discussion that I decided I was ready to get baptized.

I made a point of inviting Allison, a transwoman that I'd been friends with in high school prior to her transition, and her girlfriend to my baptism. Not as a public political statement... this was my own  personal demonstration to my friends that even though I was joining the LDS church, I was not going to turn my back on my queer friends. Allison was absolutely terrified of being recognized and confronted by people that we'd gone to grade school with, but was brave enough to attend and was able to make a quick escape afterwards without any drama.
Not too long afterwards, I happened to be with Allison on a Winco errand when we ran into one of her former friends who was also a member of my ward... Allison was recognized, and although the LDS guy was technically polite in his conversation, he insisted on continuing to use Allison's former name even after having been repeatedly told her new name. Allison kept up appearances until we got back to her apartment, but I was there to see the tears that came from that rejection. This was only a few weeks before the guy left on his mission, and after his missionary farewell talk in sacrament I felt the need to make sure he knew how much pain his words had caused before he left... I caught him in the hallway and told him how much that simple refusal to use the correct name had hurt my friend; he didn't get it, just kept repeating claims of respect for "the man [Allison] used to be".
I suppose one could say that was the start of my careful differentiation between church doctrine and church culture... the doctrine is given to us by God who individually loves and cares for each of his widely diverse children, the culture is man-made and fickle on who is worth caring about. When it comes to my association with the LDS church, I make no secret of the fact that I attend church with you each Sunday... and then go elsewhere to spend time with my real friends.

I didn't get to enjoy my time in the singles ward for very long. I started working full-time in my chosen career field (structural engineering) the same month that I was baptized, and moved to Springfield in order to reduce my commute time a little less than a year later. Although I wasn't even halfway through my 20's, being a home owner in addition to working full time and being solely responsible for care of my four-legged 'kid' meant that I quickly developed a level of maturity that didn't find much amusement in the activities geared towards college students. Julie Andrus found me crying in the restroom one Sunday over this conflict and took me to meet with her husband, then the branch president of the Springfield YSA unit. Craig asked if I would rather be in the family ward... "oh, please, can I?!? I didn't realize that was allowed!" Thus started my participation in the family ward as a 24-year-old single, childless adult. Being in a family ward without having a family certainly has its sad moments, but I've never regretted that early transition.

Independent living has brought additional testimony-building experiences. I've been blessed for applying the principles of food storage to other household supplies, such as dog food and heating pellets. After separating from my husband when I was relying on my father for financial support, there was one month that his objections to the divorce escalated to the point that I wanted to break off contact with him completely and felt horrible for needing to be polite to him in order to maintain my financial stability... somehow I ended up not needing money from him that month, which I believe was a blessing earned by maintaining my status as a full tithe payer. A timely layoff from my previous job saved me from needing to maintain job performance during an ugly separation and divorce, and also allowed me to resume schooling that had been on hold since I completed my first degree... and the new job that I was hired at almost a year later is one that allows me to continue my pursuit of higher education.

Through all of this, it has become painfully obvious that what I am and what Mormon men look for in a wife are pretty much mutually incompatible. You're welcome to keep your illusion that all women thrive on that traditional life, but I know that I'm grossly ill-equipped for popping out babies and being a stay-at-home parent. I've known that God had another plan for me since before I encountered the LDS church, and am continuously amazed at how he is able to make the seemingly impossible happen in support of that plan. I don't need your reassurance that God will somehow make me "normal" because I know that He made me who I am and I'm ok with being selected to fill a specific atypical need in His methods for ensuring that all of His children are cared for.

Nowdays its my own identity that I find myself defending the validity of against Mormon culture instead of that of my friends. Many people would simply give up and leave the Church... but that isn't an option for me because I am even more certain of the divine guidance that is available here than I was after that timely extraction from the Mary's River almost a decade ago. I know that God provides direction both to Church leadership and to individuals and that His awareness and concern for his children is uniquely individual even when church culture is not, and I will continue to serve to the best of my ability no matter how limited the opportunities for such that are given to me are.